Mr. 365 (3 page)

“I’m a Christmas junkie. Honestly. I’ve collected ornaments and Santa figurines since I was twelve. I think I was an elf in a past life.” I blush with the admission. “I have a storage unit because I don’t have enough room in my apartment for all of it.”

He leans all the way back in his chair and takes a deep breath. Something in his eyes gives me hope that I’ll have a chance to work with him.

“I promise, Sophia, you won’t be disappointed.”

“O
h my!” My mouth drops open and I’m filled with childlike wonder as Will leads me into his house. “I mean wow!” Clearly the file didn’t do it justice. The other extreme holiday people are lightweights compared to Will.
What’s up with this guy?

He laughs. He must be used to big reactions by now, and by his big grin I can see that my response delights him. He nods slowly as he surveys the room. “Well, I guess you could say that I don’t do anything halfway.”

“No, you don’t. I knew the moment I saw the enchanting architecture outside that it would be special inside too, but this is over the top!” I scan the foyer of the house. Between the high-coved ceiling, elaborately carved woodwork and cascading strands of twinkle lights, I know this isn’t the average home.

The huge Christmas tree in the entryway is covered with miniature tin toys and vintage figures. It’s like Willy Wonka put on Christmas. “Is this the kids’ tree I read about? Do you still hand out ornaments to the kids after their visit?”

He laughs. “Yeah, great idea right? Until they fight over which ornament they get.”

“No, really?” I ask, horrified. Why would this guy want to deal with a bunch of annoying rude kids?

He shakes his head. “Kids can be ruthless. I once saw a little boy so pissed off that his friend got the last Batman ornament he snapped the head off his friend’s ornament and threw it in the bushes.”

“So much for holiday spirit.”

“It’s okay. The good kids always outnumber the mean ones. I was kind of a jerk when I was little, so I get it.”

I point up to the dome. “And what are all those wrapped gifts hanging from the ceiling? Are they floating? How’s that happening?”

“They’re suspended on a very fine filament that washes out in the theatrical lighting.”

“Tricky.” He’s super high tech. I’m impressed.

He grins. “Are you ready for more?”

I instinctively grab onto his arm and lean into him. “Yes, please.”

He pulls me closer.

“Where are you taking me?” I ask with a flirty smile.

“You’ll see.” He guides me forward, leading me into his living room—the winter wonderland.

“Wow!” Other than a path of hardwood floor cutting through the room, the entire room is white with silver accents. White flocked trees are scattered throughout the room and covered with white twinkly lights and silver ornaments. Projections of clouds slowly drifting across the ceiling and snow lightly falling down the wall create an effect that is ethereal, almost heavenly.

“This is stunning. You let kids into this room?” I ask, studying the very white carpet. I have to imagine he has to replace this rug frequently.

“They’re only allowed to stand on the hardwood floor when they tour. It’s easier if they aren’t touching everything. We had a kid hide under a tree once, and when the group leader finally realized he was missing and found him, he refused to come out. We changed the rules after that.”

“Oh, my.” These kids sound worse by the minute. I can’t imagine having the patience.
What is he, some kind of saint?

“So, no hiding under the tree, okay? I’ve got my eye on you.” He teases.

I give him a sideways glance and coy smile. “I bet you do.”

“What’s this?” I ask, walking toward a long table against one of the walls. A collection of snow globes are arranged on the table, and they’re all snowing as if they each were just shaken. “How are they continually snowing like that?”

He grins mischievously. “Trade secret. I’m a scenic guy at a studio, mainly building sets, and I work with a lot of lighting and special effects guys. We have all kinds of tricks up our sleeves.” He leads me to the couch and when we sit down, I take it all in.

“My file says you work at Burbank Central Studio?” I ask.

“Yeah, I’m sure you can blame this house being over the top on that. My grandparents were big on Christmas but this really all started on a grand scale after I worked on a film set during a Christmas themed shoot. It was an independent film and they ran out of money. So instead of some of my pay, they gave me a lot of the scenery and special effects stuff. Plus the guys I work with are always coming up with new ideas, and they find new effects and props. We help each other. One of them does a huge haunted house every Halloween and I help him with that.”

I take a fresh look at the room, realizing it all makes sense now. The rooms have a movie set feel, cleverly staged and dramatic. It goes well beyond regular decorating; this house is a stage for his ideas.

“It’s interesting you’re a scenic craftsman. I would’ve never guessed until I saw the house.” I’m intrigued.

“You sound surprised. What did you imagine I did?” he asks.

“Well, you don’t fit the builder types I’ve hired, for sure.”

“And that would be?”

I fidget for a moment, as he watches me.

“I don’t know.” I blush as I look down. “Rather forgettable. Not”—I wave at his worn jeans and fitted T-shirt—“hunky.”

He grins victoriously. “Hunky? You think I’m hunky?”

“Well, for a builder kind of guy.”

“I see, so there’s a qualifier.”

I shake my head.

“What?” he asks.

“I’m in such trouble.” I say, thinking out loud as I twist a strand of hair around my finger.

“Really? And why’s that?”

“Because I’m being so inappropriate. I’m supposed to be convincing you to be on the show, not—”

“Flirting with me?”

“Oh, God,” I whisper. “I’m that obvious?” Of course he’s right, but who wants to be reminded that they have no subtlety. I’m supposed to be a professional, after all, not some girl at a bar.

“I’m pretty sure,” he says as he stands and extends his hand to me with a wink. “Please don’t stop on my account. I like it. Here, let me show you more.”

I smooth my slacks nervously and take his hand as I stand. “By all means, show me more.”

As we enter the next room he has a faraway look in his eyes. He tucks his hands in his back pockets and smiles. “Here we have
under the sea
.” The walls of this room are an iridescent aqua with a glittery tree of the same color covered with ornaments of mermaids, seashells and sea horses. “This room stays decorated year round.”

“Ooooo! I love this!” I exclaim, a little confused. Maybe he’s gay after all. I mean glitter and mermaids? I love it, but what kind of guy does this?

Will nods. “Most girls love this room. It’s genetic or something. The girls I’ve met think the deep sea is romantic and swoony. If you’ve ever been scuba diving, you’d know that isn’t the case. It’s amazing but nothing like this.”

“So then, what inspired you to do a romantic under-the-sea theme?”

“Well it started out much differently. When I was, little my older brother and I used to play deep-sea diver games, looking for sunken treasure. He got the idea from a book he read.”

I point to a small treasure chest at the base of the tree spilling over with gold coins. “So, that explains the treasure chest.”

“Yes, and when I first themed this room it was much more boy oriented. I even had some sea creature models I got from the special effect guys. My brother would have loved that.”

I note the use of past tense. Was this room done in his memory?

“Then later, I had a girlfriend who loved mermaids. I think she believed she was a mermaid in a past life. She’s the one who girlified the room with all the glitter and girl stuff. Andrew would not have been amused,” he says, shaking his head. “He had a No Girls Allowed sign on his bedroom door.”

Hmm… girlfriend.
He must not be gay after all. Trying to figure this guy out is wearing me out. I decide not to ask him more about his brother right now.

“So, what’s this room anyway? Was it the dining room?” I ask, changing the direction of the conversation.

“Yes, but I eat in the kitchen. I’m not really one for dinner parties or anything. Speaking of which, do you want to see the kitchen? I have to warn you though, Romeo’s in there. I’m not sure if he can be around you.”

My eyes get wide. “Around me? I think I’m pretty easy to get along with.” I try to imagine what type of person couldn’t tolerate me.

“It’s not that. Well, you’ll understand.” He approaches the Dutch door into his kitchen. The bottom panel is closed, and something is frantically scratching it.

I grin with relief. “Romeo’s a dog. I love dogs! What are you worried about? Does he bite or something?”

“Not exactly. He’s not a biter. He has other issues.” Will slowly pulls open the half door. “Sophia, meet Romeo.”

He’s really cute and looks like a mutt terrier similar to Tramp from the Disney movie,
Lady and the Tramp
. I lean down to let the little dog sniff my hand, but he dodges it, goes straight for my leg, and humps it wildly. How annoying. I shake my leg, but he’s steadfast.

“Whoa, that was some kind of record!” Will exclaims while peeling Romeo off my leg. “He usually takes a couple of minutes or so to start up, so I wasn’t prepared to head him off at the pass. Sorry about that. I guess you’re especially appealing, and not just to the human species.”

“Lucky me!”

He turns to Romeo. “Dude, you have no class. You didn’t even buy her a drink first.”

“Very funny, a drink? You think I’m
that
easy,” I say with my hands on my hips.

“I didn’t mean
that
, just that if
he
were human that’s what
he
would’ve tried with a woman as beautiful as you. What can I say about the little guy… he’s insatiable. You should see him at the dog park.”

I make a note of his compliment before saying, “No thanks, I can already imagine.”

“That’s how he gets his name. He loves the women.”

“I can see that. He’s got quite the winning personality.”

“He sure does.” Will laughs, sets Romeo outside the kitchen, and closes the door.

“Why don’t you do your reality show about little dude instead? He loves being in front of a camera.”

“We’ll leave the dogs humping to Animal Planet, thanks.” I look at my watch. “Oh no! I’m late!”

“Something wrong?” he asks.

“Yes, I was supposed to be back at the production offices for a meeting already.”

His eyes lose their gleam and the corners of his mouth turn down. “Okay. Let me walk you out.”

By the time he gets Romeo back into the kitchen and we get to his front door, I’m disappointed to be leaving.

“I didn’t get to see everything, did I?”

He shakes his head and smiles. “Nope.”

I lightly touch his arm, and that small gesture sparks something in his expression. “I’d like to come back. Could I?”

“Just to see the house, or me too.” He narrows his eyes playfully.

“Well, I’d see you if I were going to see your house, wouldn’t I?”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t care about the show, but I’d like to see you again.”

“Really?” I ask, blushing.

“Most definitely.” The intensity in his expression is unnerving. “Come for dinner tomorrow night.”

I look up, surprised at his directness. “I could bring takeout,” I say, knowing full well I shouldn’t agree to something so date-like.

What is wrong with me?
Do I have no resistance to a handsome man who’s trying to charm me? Am I forgetting he’s over the top with this Christmas stuff and not too dissimilar from the obsessive hoarders that the guy in the office next to me works with?

He flashes the killer smile again, and my resistance sags like an unplugged inflatable yard Santa.

“Actually, I’d love to cook for you. I’m pretty good, and you won’t have to bring anything.” He tilts his head and smiles. “Say yes.”

I pause, looking in his eyes, and then at the tall tree covered in tiny lights in the foyer.
Damn, you crazy irresistible Christmas hunk.

“Say yes,” he repeats softly.

“And you promise we can talk about the show?” I ask, not completely off my game.

He holds up his two fingers pressed together. “Boy Scouts honor.” He steps to the tree in the foyer, apparently looking for something. He pulls out a vintage ornament of Glinda the Good Witch from
the Wizard of Oz
. He returns and slips the ornament into my bag.

“Hey, why’d you do that?”

“She’s the good witch. She’ll make sure you make your way back here… back here to me.” He grins.

I rest my hand on my purse, wondering what other wizardry treats Will has in mind.

Back at the office I slide into the meeting without drawing too much attention to myself. Luckily it started late so I didn’t miss much. Afterward I corner Rachel and ask if we can talk for a minute in her office.

“So what’s up?” Rachel hands me a bottle of water and eases into the chair next to the couch. “How’s the project developing? Have you met with the Christmas guy yet?”